


On My Mind

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: Fictober 2019 [17]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Other, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-25 22:40:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21363814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: Beelzebub has no idea what a crush is.
Relationships: Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Series: Fictober 2019 [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540126
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	On My Mind

**Author's Note:**

> For fictober day seventeen: “There is just something about them/her/him.”

“My lord?” Dagon cleared their throat, looking expectantly at Beelzebub. The Lord of the Flies made no response. They tried again, a little more loudly. “My lord?”

Beelzebub blinked, then squinted at them. “Yeszz? What?”

“You have been distracted of late. The lesser demons are beginning to take notice.”

Beelzebub’s lip curled, and ze slouched back in zir throne. A few flakes of tarnished metal crumbled off, ugly grey against the black of Beelzebub’s suit jacket. “It’szz that archangel, Gabriel.”

“What about him, my lord?”

“There’szz just szzomething about him.” Beelzebub’s gaze flicked upward, eyes narrowed at the ceiling. “He’szz plotting szzomething, I can feel it. Szzomething interfering with my mind.”

Dagon looked doubtful.

“What other explanation is there?” Beelzebub snapped. “I can’t szztop thinking about him and hiszz szztupid face.” Ze growled, although it sounded more like buzzing. Dagon batted away a few agitated flies. “Ever szzince the apocalypszze. That szztupid suit and thoszze szztupid purple eyes. I want to pluck them out and szzquash them into jelly.”

Dagon perked up. This seemed more promising. “A strike against Heaven? A very wise move, Lord Beelzebub. The goody-two-shoes will never see it coming.”

Beelzebub shook zir head, waving a hand. “No, not a szztrike againszzt Heaven. We’re not ready. We don’t have the power. But we muszzt be ready. Whatever they’re planning-“

There was a quiet cough in the doorway, and both Beelzebub and Dagon turned to glare. The lesser demon who stood there, eyes wide with fear, gulped. He had a telephone clutched to his chest, its wire stretched and wrapped around him, and he held it out now like an offering. “Call for you, Lord Beelzebub.”

Beelzebub snatched it from him and snarled into the receiver, “Thiszz had better be good.”

“Beelz! Glad I could reach you.” The cheerful voice on the other end made Beelzebub blink, pulling the phone away from zir ear to stare at it, then at Dagon, who raised questioning eyebrows.

Slowly, Beelzebub lifted the phone again. “Who is thiszz?”

“It’s Gabriel, silly. What, is reception so bad down there you can’t recognize my voice?” The angel laughed. It was an odd sound, Beelzebub reflected. Not menacing at all. “Look,” Gabriel continued, “We got off to a bit of a rocky start, didn’t we?”

“You caszzt uszz into the fiery pitszz of damnation.”

Gabriel snapped his fingers. “Exactly. But that’s ancient history now, and I think we can agree that what’s going on right now is a lot more important.”

“You mean the apocalypszze.”

“Or lack thereof.” Gabriel cleared his throat. “Not to mention our little…rogue problem.”

Beelzebub’s lip curled. “Crowley.”

“And Aziraphale. What do you say we meet up to discuss it? Little brainstorming session, see if we can’t find a solution that works for everyone?”

Beelzebub considered it. It paid for a demon to be suspicious, but Gabriel seemed sincere enough. “Where do you suggeszzt we meet?”

“Neutral ground. Say, Earth? There’s this tailor shop in London-“

“Yeszz, fine, fine.” Beelzebub shook zir head. “I’ll szzee you there.”

“Perfect.” The line clicked, and Beelzebub lowered the phone.

“My lord?” Dagon ventured, cocking their head. “What was that about?”

Beelzebub handed the telephone back to the demon who had brought it, and he scurried away. “I’m not szzure,” ze said. “But I’m going to find out.”


End file.
